


Fallen From The Wormhole

by BrandyVorta (GhostySoldier)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Asgard has no mental healthcare, Crossover Pairings, Fish out of temporal water fic, Hopefully I won't just write like 2 chapters and forget about it completely, M/M, Prologue is short but the other chapters will def be longer, Shameless Crossover Ship, The Dominion is a fucked up place, The Prophets are annoyingly cryptic, rating may change in the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 16:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12610644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostySoldier/pseuds/BrandyVorta
Summary: After the events of Thor, Loki is presumed dead after falling from the shattered Bifrost. He fell into the collapsing wormhole, and seemed lost forever. 300 years later, a humanoid figure appears from the Bajoran Wormhole, and is quickly transported onto Deep Space Nine. Loki must now deal with a whole new realm, lost in a time far from what he knew, as well as trying to figure out the cryptic message he was given by the “Prophets”. Takes place post-Thor and mid-season 5 of DS9. Eventual Loki/Weyoun 6.





	Fallen From The Wormhole

“I could have done it, father! For you! For all of us!”

Loki cast his green eyes upward at the only father he’d known, pleading for understanding, for approval. He was dangling on the precipice in more ways than one, heart aching as he desperately wished for his father’s love. His heart plummeted into his stomach as Odin only stared at him in disapproval, murmuring two words that would damn him forever.

“No, Loki.”

His expression faded into heartbreak, eyes filling with tears. Loki had failed. He had failed to gain his father’s approval, which he so desperately sought. He was not a good enough Asgardian. Had he lived up to his monstrous nature? The thought filled him with such despair that his grip on Gungnir began to loosen.

“Brother, no!” Thor pleaded, but to no avail. Loki let his hand slip from Gungnir and he fell into the Void, into the collapsing remnants of the Bifrost beneath him. He heard his false-brother scream, but he could no longer see him. Loki sank into darkness, plummeting down, down, down...

 

* * *

 

His vision faded into white. There was nothing but white around him, and he couldn’t move his body. Was he dead? Loki had never been sure what was to happen upon death. Warriors, of course, went to Valhalla. But he had died a coward’s death. He’d let himself fall. Was this what Hel was supposed to be like? He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Did that mean he was still alive? Loki heard a voice, and his stomach flipped.

_“Another one has come to us.”_ That was Frigga’s voice. Yet, it was not Frigga speaking. Loki heard his heartbeat speed up as he tried to speak. “Who are you? Where am I?”

_“More questions.”_

Suddenly he was in Jotunheim, the frigid wind blowing around him on the barren wasteland. Laufey towered over him and circled him like he was a delectable meal, but something inside told him that it was not Laufey. Not-Laufey opened his mouth, and he spoke, _“There are always questions.”_

“What else do you expect of me, then? I don’t understand what’s going on, why have you brought me here?” Loki turned his body to face Not-Laufey through all his pacing, until the Frost Giant stopped and turned to face him.

And suddenly he was in Asgard. Asgard, with all its golden halls and extravagant design. It was the place he had called home for so long. He was in the throne room, Odin sitting in his rightful place, Frigga at his side. Once again, there was something otherworldly about them, a sign that this was not really them. Perhaps it was the ethereal glow of the whole room. Loki frowned in bewilderment.

Not-Odin stared indifferently at Loki. _“This being is different than the other.”_

Loki was all-too-aware that he was being judged. Was this how they decided his fate? Whether he went to Hel or Valhalla? Loki looked between Not-Odin and Not-Frigga, before he spoke up. “What is it you want from me? Are you here to pass judgement upon me? Please, have mercy and get it over with!”

_“He is aggressive.”_ Loki whirled around at the new voice, to see a false Thor standing behind him. _“Adversarial. He must be destroyed.”_

_“No.”_ Said Not-Frigga, striding down the steps toward Loki. _“He is frightened. Damaged. Much like the Sisko was when he first came to us.”_ She reached out her hand to Loki, who drew back out of fear. His mind was racing, heart thumping like a rabbit’s. Who was the Sisko? Who were these beings wearing the faces of his once-family?

They were in Jotunheim once again. Not-Frigga still stood before him, as Not-Thor, Not-Fandral, Not-Volstagg and Not-Sif surrounded him. Not-Odin sat on the back of Sleipnir, at the edge of the cliff, the Bifrost’s beam frozen in time behind him. Loki’s lips parted as his whole form began to tremble. This was far beyond what any of his studies had taught him. “Who are you?” He whispered, looking around at all of them in turn.

_“We are of Bajor.”_ Not-Sif spoke simply, coldly. _“We are outside your concept of reality. We are not linear.”_

A series of backgrounds flashed before him. The throne room, the gardens, the Bifrost bridge, Jotunheim, Vanaheim, the weapons vault. It stopped at the Bifrost bridge, with the beam active and bearing down on Jotunheim with all its destructive power. Before him, he could see himself and Thor engaged in their battle. Loki felt his heart drop and fear take a cold grasp on him. “No, not here, anywhere but here. Why are we here? Why are you showing me this?”

Not-Frigga looked at him passively, tilting her head almost inquisitively. _“You exist here.”_

Before Loki could even process her words, or form a reply, the scene changed, and they were in Jotunheim once again. His past self, Thor, and their friends were engaged in an intense battle with the Frost Giants, just as it happened two days ago. He watched as his past self was grabbed by one of the Jotun, as his skin turned the same shade of blue, that damning shade of blue that ruined everything. Loki squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, not wanting to relive this horrible moment.

_“You also exist here.”_ Not-Frigga said, and it made no more sense to him than it did before. Loki shook his head, backing away. “Please. Please don’t do this to me. No more of this!” He cried out, tears welling up in his eyes.

They were now in the courtyard, one of the few places he’d found peace in his life in Asgard. Not-Frigga, and all the other false Asgardians stood around him, with Not-Laufey behind them. If Loki hadn’t been so frightened, it would be almost comical. A Frost Giant standing calmly with Asgardians in a bright and sunny courtyard. They watched him, seeming to silently convene with each other, before Not-Odin spoke up. _“Loki of Asgard. You are to leave this place, and meet with the Sisko. Let him be your guidance.”_

“What? I don’t understand. Who is the Sisko? What are you asking of me?” Loki had far more questions than he had answers, but before he could voice them, everything went black as he was thrust from this plane of reality. He heard only one last thing before he lost consciousness. _“You will find your rest on Bajor.”_


End file.
